You Have Your Mothers Eyes
by SilverPotion205
Summary: One night during Harry's occlumency lesson, Snape see's secrets Harry never wanted to reveal. Secrets that Harry doesn't even want to remember himself. SLASH, M/M, HP/SS, Written for SomethingWithMittens 'Sell me a Story' Challenge
1. Your Eyes Are Opened

**AN: First teacher/student pairing... so be nice. I really like this one :)**

**Warnings: Slash! M/M there is one brief flashback of non-graphic, inferred rape/violence. It is a little angsty, but only a tad... It's my first time writing angst, pretty mild stuff, written for SomethingWithMittens 'Sell me a Story' Challenge. Hope you like :)**

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><p>You Have Your Mothers Eyes:<p>

_He was five, watching Dudley riding a new red bicycle, and his heart was bursting with jealousy . . . He was nine, and Ripper the bulldog chasing him up a tree and the Dursleys were laughing below on the lawn . . . He was sitting under the sorting hat, and it was telling him he would do well in Slytherin . . . He was looking through the crack at the floor of his cupboard door, watching Dudley open present after present, his friends all sitting around him, and Dudley stuffing his face with cake, Harry's stomach growling . . . He's in Snapes classroom trying to ignore Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyles snickering as Harry is trying to answer Snapes questions without looking like a fool in front of his new classmates . . ._

He felt a sharp pain in his side. Snapes office came back into view and he realized he had fallen to the floor, his side contacting painfully with the side of Snapes desk. He looked up at Snape, who had lowered his wand.

"Did you mean to try and jump at me?" asked Snape coolly.

"No," said Harry embarrassed, picking himself up off the floor.

"I thought not," said Snape, watching him closely. "You let me get in too far. You lost control."

"Did you see everything I saw?" Harry asked, unsure whether he wanted to hear the answer.

"Exactly as you did," said Snape, his lip curling. "To whom did the dog belong?"

"My Aunt Marge," Harry murmured, glaring at the floor.

"Well, for a first attempt that was not as poor as it might have been," said Snape, raising his wand once more. Harry smiled, he had actually done well enough that Snape had complimented him. Well, in Snapes own way. "You managed to stop me eventually, though you wasted time and energy trying to tackle me. You must remain focused. Repel me with your brain and you will not need to resort to physical means."

"I'm trying, but your not telling me how."

"It's not something I can tell you, Potter. It is something that you figure out on your own. Every wizards method is unique."

"Well, whats your method. Maybe I can figure it out based on what you do."

"Just close your eyes."

Harry groaned before doing what he was told. He wished Snape would just tell him how. Pretty soon he was going to get to the important memories about-

_"Legilimens!"_

He was being dragged by the hair to his cupboard . . . Dudley is hitting him over the head with his smelting's stick . . . He's hiding on the roof of the school while Dudley and his friends searched below for him . . . He's watching Snape brewing potions at his desk, quickly staring back down at his potions when he glanced Harry's way . . . His ribcage is throbbing, his uncle having shoved him into his cupboard for the millionth time before stepping inside and unzipping his pants . . .

"No... You can't... Stop!" Harry roared. He was on top of Snape, not even remembering jumping at him. Snape, surprising, wasn't yelling at him, just lying silently, with his shoulders and upper back shoved against the base of the wall, the rest of his legs tangled with Harry's on the floor, staring at him. Shocked, surprised...

Harry jumped up off of Snape, ran towards his garbage can, and retched. He hated having to relive those memories, and it was all Snapes fault. The man in question had picked himself up off the floor and crossed the room to where Harry was crouching.

"Harry," Snape said quietly. Never before had Harry heard him speak like that, it unnerved him, and scared him. He didn't want to talk about what had happened, and definitely not with Professor Snape.

Snape reached out to touch Harry's shoulder, but he flinched away, panicking. Hurriedly he grabbed his satchel from where it was carelessly discarded on the floor, exited the office, and then he ran. He ran from Snape, he ran from the memories, and he ran from the pain...


	2. You Caught a Glimpse

Two weeks. It had been two weeks since that horrible night, and Harry was trying his hardest to not remember a single detail. Of course, it didn't help that every time he entered the potions classroom Snape would stare at him with pity. Because he felt sorry for Harry, and how pathetic he was. This was the exact reason why he never wanted to tell anyone. He knew they would all say, "I'm so sorry, I feel so bad," or, "what a horrible thing to experience, I know how you feel." It was always the same thing. And they_ didn't_ know how he felt, they _didn't_ understand.

He was expecting Snape to want to talk to him, he had been trying all week, but Harry had always packed his things in a hurry, careful to avoid any discussion. Which is why it wasn't really a surprise at the end of the lesson when Snape said curtly, "Potter, stay." No, it wasn't a surprise, but it still made his stomach turn circles, tying itself in knots.

"I'm sorry, sir, I have go, I'm going to be late for transfiguration." Harry kept his head down, avoiding the Professors eyes, not wanting to see the pity behind them for the millionth time.

"I'm sure Professor McGonagall will understand."

"Really, sir, I ha-"

"That's quite enough Potter, thank you." He paused, staring down at Harry, his eyes sad. Harry clenched his jaw and looked away. He remembered the time when he wished Snape would look at him with anything other than hate. Now he wished for the old Snape back, the one that didn't know anything about him, that made snide remarks and crude jokes at his expense. Then his life might be a little less complicated.

"You missed your occlumency lesson last night," Professor Snape said in a low even voice, watching Harry's reaction.

"Um, yea," said Harry, staring ahead, not even glancing Snapes way. "I uh, I wasn't feeling to well."

"Oh really, you seem fine to me," he said quietly.

"I had a lot of homework."

"Occlumency's more important than homework Potter, don't give me excuses. Why were you not at my office?" his voice still eerily quiet. Harry wished he would yell instead, the calmness was a little frightening, he kept waiting for the blow-up.

"I um... I forgot?"

"Well, since you forgot last night, we can work tonight instead. That's reasonable, wouldn't you say?"

"I can't, I have... stuff."

"So it's settled. I'll see you at seven, then."

"Fine," Harry said. There was no way he was going to get out of this. His chest tightened as he realized that he would have to spend a whole two hours with Snape. Two whole hours with him and Snape, and his big ugly secret hanging over his head.

"Don't you have class to get to?"

"Right," Harry said, hurriedly placing the strap of his bag around his shoulder.

"Don't forget Harry," Snape said as Harry practically ran from the classroom.

Oh, he wouldn't forget. Because he would be dreading it for the rest of the day.

* * *

><p>As seven o'clock rolled around, Harry could be found slowly making his way down to the dungeons. He didn't know what to expect, given resent events, so he was a bit surprised when he walked into Snapes office.<p>

Everything was exactly as it always was, except for the fact that the pensive Snape usually had sitting on his desk was nowhere to be seen, as was Snapes wand, which could usually be found being twirled around in Snapes fingers.

"Well don't just stand there staring, Potter. Shut the door and sit down."

He silently shut the door and trudged over to the vacant seat, resting his schoolbag next to the chair. This felt more like detention than anything else.

They sat in silence for a few moments until Harry couldn't stand it, and he blurted out, "Did you tell anyone?"

Snape shifted in his seat. He now placed his two elbows on either side of the chair, he leaned forward, his hands clasped. Harry still couldn't see him very well, except only his silhouette; probably because there were no windows, or brackets with torches in the back of Snapes office, only one, next to the door.

"No."

Harry breathed a sigh of relief. He could handle it if Snape was the only one who knew. If there was only one person he had to deal with. But, if others found out, if everyone looked at him with pity in their eyes... he expected he might just crack.

"But that doesn't mean I'm not going to Harry. I have to tell Dumbledore before you go back home for the holidays."

"Why? Why does it matter."

"Does it still happen, Harry? And answer me truthfully. You know I could tell when your lying, if I really wanted to."

Harry stared at his jeans, his throat suddenly seemed to swell a small amount and a lump formed. "Yes," he whispered. Even though he wanted nothing more than to never have to admit that to Snape.

"Then, as per my duties as a Professor, I have to report this to Dumbledore."

"Why do you even care what happens to me? I mean, you pretty much shoved the fact that you hate me in my face the first day I showed up here, and it's not like you have ever let me forget that."

"Because, it's my job to report when a student his hurt, or endangered in any way, shape or form. And even if it wasn't my job to report what has happened, I still would tell someone who can help you. Harry, no one deserves to be treated the way you have. Nobody. No matter how much you think you deserve it."

Harry could feel the tears pricking at his eyes and rubbed them harshly. There was no way Snape was going to see him cry. There was no chance that Harry was going to give him another thing to use as a class joke. No way.

"Harry, it's okay to cry. I know how you feel, I won't judge you."

That was it. He had had enough. Harry knew someone would pull the "I understand" card, and he was right. His anger flashed.

"You know how I feel? Really? Because I don't think you do. You sit there, telling me what a piece of scum I am, and then you see one bad detail about my life and suddenly I'm pathetic and need help. You really think you know how I feel? Have you grown up in a house where everyone hated you, and told you every day that they wish you had never been born? Where they call you freak and stupid and an idiot? Have you ever had to work until your bones are aching and you drenched in sweat, only to get hit and yelled at because you haven't don't it perfectly? Have you _ever_ had to lay on a broken old mattress that's been shoved inside a tiny closet, each night, you whole body aching from all the work you done all day when your uncle, or guardian, or someone, comes in... and, and..."

And suddenly Harry couldn't hold it anymore and the tears started flowing. His chest heaving. Snape got swiftly up from his desk and reached Harry's side, where he knelt down and pulled Harry from his chair onto the floor next to him, holding him securely to his chest. Harry clung Snape as he sobbed into his chest. For the first time in his life, Harry let himself cry in front of someone. He cried and sobbed, and for the first time, ever, someone was there to comfort him.


	3. Look

He had finally stopped crying, and he hurriedly stood... up and away from Severus, with the realization of what had just happened. He glanced down at the older man, now picking himself up off the floor. Harry wiped the few stray tears from his eyes. His face hot with embarrassment.

"I, um," He turned and ran for the door again. He seemed to be doing that a lot lately. Running, from Snape.

But this time Snape caught his arm.

"Harry. You can leave yet."

"Let go of me, I can leave when I want." He tried to pull away from Snape, but his grip was strong and he couldn't pull free.

"Harry. We haven't even started occlumency lessons yet."

"Well then why didn't we do that to begin with? Huh?" said Harry, getting angry. "Why did you have to bring up all the other stuff, and talk about it, why couldn't we have just started occlumency like normal?"

"Because, I had to talk to you."

"Well you didn't say much. Just, I'm telling Dumbledore and I understand. Wow, what a fat load of good that did. I bet you loved that, didn't you, seeing your least favorite person in the world crying their eyes out in front of you. I bet you thoroughly enjoyed that. Your probably going to tell all the Slytherins tomorrow how Harry Potter cried like a baby. Aren't you?"

"Harry, calm down. You get angrily way to easy. And no, I'm not going to tell anyone about that, because I... well I'm just not. And trust me, I did NOT enjoy that. One bit."

"Well I don't believe you."

"I don't expect you to."

"Because I could never trust you."

"That's understandable."

"Why are you doing this to me! Really! I mean, I know you hate me and all, but-"

"I don't hate you."

"See! This is what I'm talking about. Why are you doing that?"

"Doing what, Harry?"

"You just, are being nice to me, and saying you understand all the time, and-"

"That's a bad thing?"

"_Yes_ that's a bad thing! You were _always_ mean to me. You _never_ told me you understood_ anything about_ me," he glared at Snape before continuing, "It's like, ever since you found out what my uncle does to me you've been pitying me, and being nice, and I just don't understand_ why_."

"For one thing, I would never pity you. That's disgusting. I don't pity anyone.

"And second, I'm being nice because I realized I was wrong about you all these years. You are nothing like your father, and I'm sorry for assuming so."

Harry was silent for a long moment, looking at Professor Snape questioningly, before he asked quietly, "What did my father do to you to make you hate him so much? So much that you even hate his children. Children that you know_ nothing_ about."

Snape frowned, and stared at the side wall, before answering carefully. "Your father did a lot of things. And it would take to long to explain them all and their reasoning's. Besides, you don't want to know. And I don't want to tell you."

"But, I-"

"I think that's enough for tonight."

"We haven't done occlumency lessons yet."

"Your right. I should have started off with just occlumency lessons without trying to speak to you about things that are none of my business. We will have occlumency lessons same time next week to make up for these past two."

"Wait, but Snape, s-"

"Go to bed Harry."

* * *

><p><em>"It's okay Harry, your safe with me. You don't have to worry. I'm here." Snape ran his fingers through Harry's hair, and along the side of his face, before wiping the small amount of tears away.<em>

_He pulled closer to Snape, and in turn he tightened his arms around Harry._

_"It's okay Harry... I'm here."_

_He looked up at Snape and saw the older man staring down at him with understanding, caring eyes. His eyebrows were scrunched slightly in worry, and Harry raised his shaky hand to smooth out the crease between them._

_Snape continued to run his hands through Harry's messy black locks and Harry slowly closed his eyes, enjoying the feeling._

_Abruptly, Snape stopped his movements. Harry opened his eyes and looked up at Snape questioningly. "Harry," the man whispered, before cupping Harry's jaw and gently pulling him forward. Their lips were so close, about to touch..._

_Now Snape was Uncle Vernon, leering at him in the darkness of his cupboard. "What an idiot you are Harry. You really think someone will love you? Your a loser, a freak of nature. Nobody. Wants. You." He laughed. Laughing, laughing laughing..._

_And suddenly it was Voldemort laughing. So happy. He stared down at Harry, now sprawled on the floor. "Look at you, Potter. All alone in your last few minutes. Nobody's here to save you. Your friends are dead. It was easy, with so few of them. Just a few young teenagers and an old, old man. Nobody left cares enough to rescue you. Nobody cares... Avada Kedavra!"_

Harry woke with a start. His whole body sticky with sweat. Voldemorts words echoing in his head...

Nobody cares... nobody cares.


	4. You Saw

Harry stared down at his pumpkin juice morosely. He hadn't been sleeping well since the night Snape found out his secret, and now, since the past two Occlumency lessons, Harry had been having... well, strange dreams about his professor. It wasn't as if he hadn't secretly thought of Snape like that before, but he thought it was just teenage hormones. Now though, there was the dreams, lots of dreams. Did normal people dream about their professors? He didn't think so...

He swirled his goblet and watched the juice splash around as he rested his head on his palm. He brought it to his lips and took a sip. That also happened to be when he looked up and noticed Snape staring intently at him from the teachers dining table.

He choked on his juice.

Snape frowned disapprovingly and broke eye contact with Harry, staring back down at his food.

Harry's face flushed. He glared at the table. He felt so stupid. Why was he acting like such a kid? Snape would never like him if he kept acting like that. Harry stopped himself there. Why was he even thinking about Professor Snape in that way? Why would he ever want Snape to like him? He glanced around the gryffendor table, then jumped when he noticed Ron staring at him in amusement. Why did everyone decide to watch him today, Harry thought, in frustration. He hated when someone startled him.

"What?" he asked, glaring at Ron.

Ron grinned. "I saw that Harry, you choking on your pumpkin juice," he smiled gleefully.

"So?" Only Ron could be so happy over watching someone spill juice on themselves.

"So... Who were you staring at to make you choke, hmm? Is she from Ravenclaw like Cho?

"What? No, that's ridiculous, I didn't choke because someone looked at me."

Ron laughed loudly. A few students sitting near him glanced his way in annoyance.

"You are such a bad liar Harry. So, who is she?"

"No one," he mumbled.

"Your saying there isn't one girl in the castle that has caught your eye?" asked Ron in a disbelieving tone.

Harry smiled at Ron's question, because he could actually answer it truthfully.

"No, seriously Ron, there isn't."

Ron stared at Harry for a few more moments, before he smirked slightly and shook his head before he returned to eating his breakfast.

* * *

><p>Although Harry's nights were restless and he hated - yet secretly loved - going to sleep at night, he really hated - yet also loved - potions class.<p>

Although Snape didn't poke fun at Harry anymore for the classes enjoyment, of which Harry was quite glad of, he still didn't treat him nice, at all. It was confusing for Harry because he was, civil, toward him when others weren't around, and even somewhat nice when they practiced occlumency lessons in his office now, but he never spoke to Harry unless to tell him to fix something in his potion or stay after class for different reasons. It hurt Harry's head as he tried to figure it all out. He wished he knew what Snapes deal was.

"Potter! Pay attention to what your doing! You haven't added your lace-fly wings and you've already lowered the temperature. This potion is ruined now."

Harry ducked his head. He didn't know why, but he felt ashamed that he hadn't gotten the potion correct. He waited for the contents of his cauldron to disappear like they usually did after the Professor had commented on them. Surprised, Harry looked up to see what Professor Snape was waiting for, but he had already moved on, glancing at the others progress. He turned back to try and salvage his potion and noticed Hermione looking at him curiously, and then glancing forward to look at Snape, who had returned to his desk. Harry didn't give a second thought to what Hermione might be putting together, as he was now engrossed in what Snape was doing in the front of the class.

Seated, Snape had pulled some unfinished essays toward himself. Now reading the essay carefully, Snape didn't notice as Harry watched him. As he bit the end of his quill. Or as he licked on slender finger to turn to the next page. Or...

* * *

><p><em>as Snape was tucking his hair behind his ear, leaning forward to read the essay better . . . Hermione was talking, "Harry, you've been in occlumency a lot lately, I thought it was supposed to be every other week . . . Harry was dreaming of Snape, their lips were about to touch . . .<em>

It sounded as if a strong wind just rushed passed Harry's ears as Snapes office came quickly back into view.

Professor Snape was standing across from Harry with his wand still held out from casting the the spell... his face white, his eyes wide.

"I. Um.."

"Harry, what... what was that?"

"It's not what you think, really." He felt as if his whole body was on fire. As if a huge fist was just squeezing his chest, tightly. His heart humming in his chest.

"Harry. Could you please explain to me, what that just was," Snape said evenly. He didn't even look Harry in the eyes. Not that Harry wanted him too at the moment, but still, it hurt, slightly, though he didn't know why.

"Now," Snape growled.

"I, it's just a dream I was having, it don't... Hermione was just wondering..."

"I don't exactly _care_ what Granger was _wondering_. What I want to know is why I'm seeing memories of you staring at me, and... dreaming of me."

"I wasn't!"

"Well then, explain to me Potter!" That stopped Harry dead. Professor Snape hadn't called him "Potter," since the night he saw the memories. Not in his office at least.

"I... I just... I don't, I-, I have to go." He hurriedly snatched his bad from the floor and ran for the door. But Snape grabbed his elbow and yanked him back. He stumbled backwards, trying to gain back his balance, and ended up on the opposite side of the room from Professor Snape... and the door.

Snape, after having yanked Harry back, pulled out his wand and aimed it at the door handle. He sent a silent, blue spell at the door handle with a swift slashing movement, and the door shuddered slightly. He then turned his wand towards Harry, his face stony.

"Now, Potter." Harry cringed slightly. Snapes voice was anything but friendly. "I know you don't wish to explain to me the... stalkerish, qualities you have suddenly come to possess," Snape said slowly, his voice low and dangerous. "Fine." He paused, taking a few steps forward. "But," he raised an eyebrow, "that does, in no way, give you the right, to simply stalk out of my office. Especially," he emphasized, "in the extremely rude manner in which you did tonight!" Another pause. "Furthermore. Just because you are... embarrassed, or angry, or any other petty emotion you might feel, does not mean you can stop the lesson and run off to pout. Therefore, we will continue this lesson until the expected time. And just so we are clear, I will continue to use the curse I am tonight, on the door, until the end of every one of our lessons. This meaning, you will no longer be able to leave before the lesson is finished. And just to quell any idea's starting to form in that troublesome mind of yours, I'm delighted to inform you that there is no spell to release the locking curse. It is timed. So, you are locked in here with me until each lesson is finished. Ready to continue?"

Harry glared at his professor. He couldn't believe, that for a short while, he had forgotten why he disliked Snape. Well, now he remembered. And he wouldn't soon forget.

"Professor, I hope you know, I-"

"Legilimens!"

He was eating breakfast, stealing glances at Professor Snape when he wasn't looking . . . He was sitting on the edge of his bed, a lone tear sliding down his cheek as he recalled his nights at the Dursley's . . . His Uncles looming, laughing face above him . . . He was 6, his Uncle glaring at him, "Don't tell anyone, boy... Don't tell anyone... Don't tell anyone . . . .

Harry registered vaguely that Snapes office had come back into view before he fell backwards into one of Snape chairs. His throat burned threateningly. He wasn't going to cry in front of Snape. Not again, not ever.

"Harry..." Snape paused for a second, then opened and shut his mouth, as if deciding not to continue, before commanding in a soft voice, "Potter. Stand up."

Harry pulled himself to his feet, glaring at his professor, but not saying anything. It seemed as if it were easier to get rid of the burn in his throat if he made himself slightly angry. Or more than slightly angry, depending.

"Ligilimens," Snape murmured, not looking at Harry.

Harry felt the curse hurtling towards him. He _saw_ it. He tried so hard to make his mind blank, he thought of a blank, dark, black box, in which the spell would land in, blocking it from his thoughts and memories. Painful memories.

The spell hit Harry and landed in the box, captured for a second, before Snape looked up, surprised. They locked eyes for a second, and blank box shattered, and the memories surfaced again.

_Harry was running home, trying to be back before Dudley. He turned down Privet Drive and looked at number four, hoping Dudley's bike wasn't there. He didn't see anything, and breathed a sigh of relief, but still hurried towards the house. He opened the gate, and that's when he saw it. The forest green mountain bike was sitting there against the back side of the picket fence. He had missed it before because it was shorter than the fence. He knew Dudley was back now. Before Harry. His stomach clenched in dread and slight fear. He walked slowly to the front door. Knowing what was coming next..._

"Potter, get up! Potter! Harry!" Snapes frantic voice blew into Harry's ears. He opened his eyes. He was sitting in Professor Snapes chair, which wouldn't be a problem except for the fact that it was toppled backwards. Seeing that Harry was indeed fine, Snape stood from the crouched position he was in. He cleared his throat. Harry's head was throbbing. He reached back and rubbed the back of his head and neck, then picked himself and the chair up off the floor.

"What happened?" Harry asked, looking up at Snape.

"When the memory showed itself, you started panicking, using your arms to block something in front of you. You started screaming, no!, no!, over and over again. You finally backed up until the backs of your knees hit the front of the chair and you tumbled backwards with the chair. You didn't get up for long seconds afterwards." Snape glanced at Harry with a cold demeanor. Almost as if he cared what happened to Harry and was checking out if he truly was alright. But that couldn't be true. This was Snape. He was probably just glaring at Harry, mad that he might have broken his furniture.

"Oh," Harry said. And the door clicked open beside him. "Well, sessions up now, so..." Harry picked up his satchel from the ground. He didn't even know why he brought it. It's not like he used anything. He headed for the door.

"One more thing before you leave, Harry." Snape said.

Harry stopped and turned to look back at Snape.

"Why did you react so strongly with this particular memory?"

Harry thought before he answered, "I guess you'll just find out next session, when you reveal more of my secrets, now won't you." Harry meant for the comment to come out light, but it rather sounded like he was accusing Snape. Professor Snape, for his part, didn't reprimand him, just excused him graciously, for which Harry was glad of. Walking down the corridor back to his dormitories, Harry thought about why. Snape probably didn't get angry because he thought what Harry had said was true and he most likely thought that he _would_ find out next session. What he didn't know, was that Harry would be trying very, _very_ hard to make sure that _didn't_ happen.

No one knew about that memory. No one knew about most his memories. And he was going to keep it that way.


	5. I Watched Hate Unfold Before Me

I'd like to thank the following four communities for adding me to their lists, and making this even more popular than it started out being. So, big thanks to:

Abused Harry

Daily Dose of Slash

Twilightchick16's To-Read List

~ﾟ† Harry.:†ﾟ~

This story has been my favorite to write because of all the warm reviews I receive from my readers. The Harry/Severus community is definitely a bit welcoming group. Thanks you guys, you are all awesome.

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><p><em>Dark. Empty. Blank. <em>

_"Come on, Harry. You can do this. Empty your mind," _he thought to himself._ "Don't think about anything. Stop talking to yourself. No! Ugh... this isn't working..."_

He opened his eye's and flopped back on his bed. His head was throbbing from continuously trying to clear his mind. He rubbed his temples, glancing at the bunk's around him. His dorm mates were fast asleep, having nothing to worry about at the moment. Not having to deal with the fact that if they couldn't complete a simple task, Voldemort could enter their minds at leisure. Harry shuddered at the thought. He sat up and closed his eye's again, hoping this time it would work.

_"Empty. Blank. Nothing. Funny..." _he thought,_ "how he wasn't even trying this earlier, when he was worried about Voldemort entering his mind. No, it took him not wanting his professor reading his thoughts, that provoked him into clearing his mind each night. Maybe that's what Dumbledore had thought of since the beginning. Wouldn't surprise him._

Harry opened his eye's in frustration. This wasn't working. It was late, and he was tired. He lay back on his pillows. This would work tomorrow night, he told himself. It would.

* * *

><p>"I can see you've been practicing," was Snape's only comment after their lesson finished for the night.<p>

Harry nodded.

"Good, then soon you won't need to come in for lesson's anymore."

Harry tried to ignore the pang of remorse at the fact that he might not be coming back here for very longer. _Stop being foolish_, he mentally chided himself, _this is what you wanted, remember?_

"Yea, okay," he replied, and hearing the door click, he left the room and made his way back to the common rooms.

* * *

><p>Weeks went by and Professor Snape and he worked on blocking him out, keeping him from entering his mind. Harry was getting remarkably good at keeping Snape out. So good in fact, that Snapes chide comments were dwindling, some lesson's, he never even had a bad thing to say. Thing were going good for Harry.<p>

Until one lesson in early March...

"Professor?" Harry asked as he entered the office that had come exceedingly familiar to him this school year. Harry placed his bag on the floor, and looked around the classroom. Where was Snape? He was never late. Harry was about to sit down to wait for Professor Snape to get there, when a patch of shivering light caught his eye. He knew what that was, it was vaguely familiar somehow. That's when he remembered, it was the same silvery light he had seen coming from Dumbledore's cupboard last year from his pensieve. So that meant this was Snape's pensieve. The silver-white contents were swirling with Snape's thoughts... things he didn't want Harry to see if he accidentally broke through Snapes' defenses. What was it that Snape was so keen to keep a secret from Harry?

Could it possible be the information about the Department of Mysteries that Snape didn't want Harry to know? Maybe, it was the memories that explained Snape's hate of his father that he had refused to tell Harry those many months ago.

Curiosity ate at him. Harry glanced oer his shoulder, his heart now pumping hard and fast than ever. How long would it be until Snape got here? Would he notice Harry was here in the pensieve?

Harry walked the few remaining steps to the pensieve and stood over it, gazing into it's depths. He hesitated, listening for any sounds, then bend down and used his wand to swirl the contents before watching what was happening.

Curiosity filled Harry again, as he realized he was looking down upon he Great Hall. His breath was actually fogging he surgace of Snape's thoughts... It would be insane t do the thing that he was so strongly tempted to do... He was trembling... Snape could be back at any moment...

Reckless daring seized him, he took a deep gulp of breath, and plunged his face into the surface of Snape's thoughts. At once, the floor of the office lurched, tipping Harry headfirst into the pensieve...

Harry was standing in the middle of the Great Hall, but the four House tables were gone. Instead, there were more than a hundred desks, all facing the same way, at which sat students around his age, heads bent low, scribbling on a roll or parchment. The only sound was the scratching of quills and the occasional rustle as somebody adjusted their parchment. It was clearly exam time.

Harry looked around for Snape, he had to be here somewhere... it was _his_ memory.

And there he was, at a table right behind Harry. Harry stared. Snape-the-teenager was beautiful. His silk hair not yet having the greasy look it did now. It looked soft and shiny, falling to his ears, slightly longer in the back. It kept falling in his eye's, and Snape-the-teenager would frustratedly brush it away, and tuck it behind his ears, where it would eventually fall again. His body was thin; thinner, even, than it was now. Almost like him when he got back to Hogwarts after the summer; but this was exam time, meaning the year was almost over, and he was still very thin.

Harry moved around behind Snape, and read the heading of the examination paper:

DEFENSE AGAINST THE DARK ARTS  
>ORDINARY WIZARDING LEVEL<p>

So Snape had to be fifteen, sixteen. Close to the same age Harry was. His hand was flying across the parchment; he had written at least a foot more than his closest neighbors, and yet his writing was minuscule, and cramped. Apparently Snape was as amazingly brilliant as he was now, even when he was Harry's age.

"Five more minutes!"

The voice made Harry jump: turning, he saw the top of Professor Flitwick's head moving between the desks a short distance away. Professor Flitwick was walking past a boy with untidy black hair... very untidy black hair..

Harry moved so quickly that, had he been solid, he would have knocked desks flying. Instead he seemed to slide up in front of the desk. he hazed down at his fifteen-year-old father.

It was as though he was looking at himself, be with some differences. James' eyes were hazel, and there was no scar on his forehead; nearly everything else was the same. James' hair even stuck up at the exact same spot in the back of his head as Harry's did.

James yawned, and rumpled his hair, making it even messier than it had been. Then, with a glance toward Professor Flitwick, he turned in his seat and grinned at the boy sitting four seats behind him. With a jolt of shock, Harry saw Sirius give James the thumbs-up. Sirius was lounging in his chair at ease. His hair fell into his eyes with a sort of casual elegance that neither James', nor Harry's could ever have achieved. And two seats along from Sirius, was Remus Lupin, absorbed in the exam; as he reread his answers, he scratched his chin with the end of his quill, frowning slightly.

"Quills down, please!" squeaked Professor Flitwick. "Please remain seated while I collect your parchment! _Accio_! more than a hundred rolls of parchment zoomed into the air and into Professor Flitwick's outstretched arms.

James jumped to his feet, stuffed his quill and the exam question paper into his bag, which he slung over his back, and stood waiting for Sirius to join him.

Harry looked around and glimpsed Snape a short way away, moving between the tables toward the doors into the entrance hall, still absorbed in his own examination paper. Round-shouldered, yet angular, he walked with a grace to him, that rivaled his perfected stride he used now, his hair swinging about his face.

Both Snape, and James' group, oblivious to each other, made their way out to the grounds, towards the lake.

James, Sirius, and Remus stopped in the shade of the very same beech tree on the edge of he lake in which Harry, Hermione, and Ron had spent many a Sunday's finishing homework, and threw themselves down on the grass.

Harry looked over his shoulder yet again and saw, to his delight, that Snape had settled himself on the grass in the dense shadows of a clump of bushes not far from the group. He was deeply immersed in the O.W.L paper as ever, his eyebrows coming together to stare intensely at the paper, reminding Harry of the few times Snape had stared at _him_ like that.

Harry turned his attention back to the group of three. Lupin had pulled out a book and was reading. Sirius stared around at the students milling over the grass, looking rather haughty and bored. James was playing with a snitch that he had pulled out of his pocket earlier, letting it zoom father and farther away, almost escaping, but always grabbed it at the last second. Harry noticed how his father had a habit of rumpling up his hair as though to make sure it didn't get to tidy, and also that he kept looking over at the girls by the water's edge.

"Put that away, will you?" said Lupin, as James made a particularly good catch, and also happening to knock the book out of Lupin's hands in the process.

"If it bothers you," he said, stuffing the snitch back into his pocket."

"I'm bored," said Sirius. "Wish it was the full moon."

"You might," said Lupin darkly from behind his book. "We've sill got Transfiguration, if you're bored you could test me... Here." He held out his book.

Sirius snorted. "I don't need to look at that rubbish, I know it all."

"This'll liven you up, Padfoot," said James quietly. "Look who it is..."

Sirius' head turned. He had become very still, like a dog that has scented a rabbit.

"excellent," he said softly. "_Snivellus."_

Harry turned to see what Sirius was looking at.

Snape was on his feet again, and was stowing the O.W.L. paper in his bag. As he emerged from the shadows of the bushes and set off across the grass, Sirius and James stood up, Lupin remained sitting, he was still staring down at his book, though his eyes were not moving and a faint frown line had appeared between his eyebrows.

"All right, Snivellus?" said James loudly.

Snape reacted so fast, it was as though he had been expecting an attack. Dropping his bag, he plunged his hand inside his robes, and his wand was halfway into the air when James shouted, _"Expelliarmus!"_

Snape's wand flew twelve feet into the air and fell with a little thud in the grass behind him. Sirius let out a bark of laughter.

_"Impedimenta!"_ he said, pointing his wand at Snape, who was knocked off his feet, halfway through a dive toward his own fallen wand.

Students all around had turned to watch. Some of them had gotten to their feet and were edging nearer to watch. Some looked apprehensive, while others looked entertained.

Snape lay panting on the ground. James and Sirius advanced on him, wands up, James glancing over his shoulder at the girls at the water's edge as he went.

"How'd the exam go, Snivelly?" said James.

"I was watching him, his nose was touching the parchment," said Sirius viciously. "There'll be great grease marks all over it, they won't be able to read a word."

Several people watching laughed. Snape was clearly unpopular. Snape was trying to get up, but the jinx was operating on him; he was struggling, as though bound by invisible ropes.

"You - wait," he panted, staring up at James with an expression of purest loathing. "you - wait..."

"wait for what? asked Sirius coolly. "What're you going to do Snivelly, wipe your nose on us?"

Snape let out a stream of mixed swearwords and hexes, but his wand, being ten feet away nothing happened.

"Wash out your mouth," said James coldly. _"Scourgify!"_

Pink soap bubbles streamed from Snape's mouth at once the froth was covering his lips, making him gag, choking him. Harry's blood boiled. This was his father doing this. He couldn't believe it. He had always looked up to his father, and this was what he was truly like. He was just like Malfoy, except worse, he didn't cast spells while Snape's back was turned, no, he cast them while he was defenseless. A coward. He wanted to yell at his father, tell him to let Snape be, to...

"Leave him ALONE!" James and Sirius looked around. James' free hand jumped to his hair again. Harry turned too. It was one of the girls from the lake edge. She had thick, dark red hair that fell to her shoulders and startlingly green almond-shaped eyes - Harry's eyes.

Harry's mother...

"All right, Evans?" asked James, and the tone of his voice was suddenly pleasant, deeper, more mature.

"Leave him alone," Lily repeated. She was looking at James with every sign of great dislike, "What's he done to you?"

"Well," said James, appearing to deliberate the point, "it's more that fact that he _exists_, if you know what I mean..."

Many of the surrounding watchers laughed, Sirius included, but Lupin, still apparently intent on his book, didn't, and neither did Lily.

"You think your funny," she said coldly. "But you're just an arrogant, bullying, toerag, Potter. leave him alone."

"I will if you go out with me, Evans," said James quickly. "Go on... go out with me, and I'll never lay a wand on old Snivelly again."

Behind him, the Impediment Jinx was wearing off. Snape was beginning to inch toward his fallen wand, spitting out soap suds as he crawled.

"I wouldn't go out with you if it was a choice between you and the giant squid," said Lily.

"Ban luck, Prongs," said Sirius briskly, turning back to Snape. "OY!"

But too late; Snape had directed his wand straight at James; there was a flash of light and a gash appeared on the side of James' face, spattering his rope with blood. James whirled about' a second flash of light later, Snape was hanging upside down in the air, his robes falling over his head to reveal skinny, pallid legs and a pair of graying underpants.

Many people in the crowd watching cheered. Sirius and James roared with laughter.

Lily, whose furious expression had twitched for an instant as though she was going to smile, said, "Let him down!"

"Certainly," said James, and he jerked his wand upward. Snape fell into a crumpled heap on the ground. Disentangling himself from his robes, he got quickly to his feet, wand up, but Sirius said, _"Locomotor mortis!_" and Snape keeled over again at once, rigid as a board.

"LEAVE HIM ALONE!" Lily shouted. She had her own wand out now. James and Sirius eyed it warily.

"Ah, Evans, don't make me hex you," said James earnestly.

"Take the curse off him, then!"

James sighed deeply, then turned to Snapeand muttered the countercurse.

"There you go," he said, as Snape struggled to his feet atain, "you're lucky Evans was here, Snivellus-"

"I don't need help from filthy little Mudbloods like her!"

Lily blinked. "Fine," she said cooly. "I won't bother in the future. And I'd wash your pants if I were you,_ Snivellus._"

"Apologize to Evans!" James roared at Snape, his wand pointed threateningly at him.

"I don't want you to make him apologize," Lily shouted, rounding on James. "You're as bad as he is..."

"What?" yelped James. "I'd NEVER call you a - you-know-what!"

"Messing up your hair because you think it looks cool to look like you've just got off your broomstick, showing off with that stupid Snitch, waking down corridors and hexing anyone who annoys you just because you can - I' surprised your broomstick can get off the ground with that fat head on it. You make me SICK!"

She turned on her heel and hurried away.

"Evans!" James shouted after her, "Hey, EVANS!"

But she didn't look back.

"What is it with her?" asked James, trying and failing to look as though this was a throwaway question of no real importance to him.

"Reading between the lines, I'd say she thinks you're a bit conceited, mate," said Sirius.

"Right," said James, who looked furious now, "right-"

"There was another flash of light, and Snape was once again hanging upside down in the air.

"Who wants to see me take off Snivelly's pants?" Harry's blood boiled again, with no Lily there to say what he exactly what he was thinking, he got angry quickly.

But whether James really did take off Snape's pants, Harry never found out. A hand had closed right over his upper arm, closed with a pincerlike grip. Wincing, Harry looked around to see who had hold of him, and saw, with a thrill of horror, a fully grown, adult-sized Snape standing right beside him, white with rage.

"Having fun?"

Harry felt himself rising into the air. The summer's day evaporated around him, he was floating upward through icy blackness, Snape's hand still right upon his upper arm. Then, with a swooping feeling as though he had turned head over heels in midair, his feet hit the stone floor of Snape's dungeon, and he was standing again beside the pensieve on Snape's desk in the shadowy, present-day Potions master's study.

"so," said Snape, gipping Harry's arm so tightly harry's hand was starting to feel numb. "So... been enjoying yourself, Potter?"

"No-no..." said Harry, trying to explain, and free his arm.

"It was intimidating: Snape's lips were shaking, his face was white, his teeth were bared.

"Amusing man, your father, wasnt he?" said Snape.

"No, I wasn't, I don't-"

Snape threw Harry from him with all his might. Harry fell hard onto the dungeon floor.

You will not repeat what you saw to anybody!" Snape bellowed.

"No," said Harry, getting to his feet as far from Snape as he could. "No, of course I w-"

"Get out, get out, I don't want to see you in this office ever again!"

Harry wrenched the door open and flew away up the corridor, stopping only when he had put three dloors between himself and Snape. There, he leaned against the wall, panting and rubbing his bruised arm.

He had no desire at all to return to Gryffindor Tower so early, nor to tell Ron and Hermione what he had just seen. What was making Harry feel so horrified and unhappy wasn't Snape being so angry with him or shouting at him - it was that he knew how it felt to be humiliated in the middle of a circle of onlookers, knew exactly how Snape had felt as his father had taunted him, and that judging from what he had just seen, his father had been every bit as arrogant as Snape had always told him.


	6. When Your Eyes Catch Mine

Harry knocked at Severus' door nervously. He knew he had been told never to come back here mere hours ago, but he couldn't let things go like this. He had spend the last three hours in thought, noting the progress they had made, not only learning occulmency, but in their relationship with one another as well. He gained another bout of courage and knocked again, this time louder.

"This better be imp-" the man had started with a grumble as he opened the door, but abruptly cut off as he saw who it was.

"Hi," Harry lamely stated, before hastily shoving his foot in the door as Severus made to slam it. He let out an exclamation of pain as the door made contact with his ankle and foot.

Despite the fact that the man was angry at him, Harry saw a spasm of concern cross his face as the anger dulled slightly, before Severus' face was back to it's usual mask of no emotion.

"Urgh. Ow. That really hurt. Anyway. Please, just least listen. Hear me out. Please."

Severus glare was back and he made to shut the door again, yet gentler this time, which allowed Harry time to place his palms against the wood and push with all his might. This resulted in a physical struggle of strengths as both men pushed with all their might. Harry could feel the door slowly making it's way toward him, and he looked up at Severus, no words spoken just pleading with his eyes, his green orbs glistening with pretears of anger and defeat.

All of a sudden Harry found himself falling forward onto Severus' floor, a place he seemed to spending a lot of these couple months, he thought bitterly. He looked up to see Severus quickly hide his surprise.

"You think you can just force yourself unto my presence, and everything will be merely forgiven Potter?" he spat angrily.  
>"I don't want to hear what you have to say, for my sake, and yours, it would do well for you to vacate the premises." Severus turned and walked away, not giving Harry a second glance.<p>

Harry got up angrily now, ignoring the spasm of pain that shot up not only his ankle, but now his hip. He limped slightly before gaining his balance and walking quickly over to the older man.

"Would you just listen?" he asked angrily, grabbing the front of Severus shirt and shaking him roughly. The mans eyes widened minutely before he composed himself. But Harry wasn't done, he pulled the professor roughly with him to the couch, before harshly pushing him down on the loveseat. "Listen, you insufferable git."

Severus immediately opened his mouth to issue a smart retort, but Harry shushed him.

"When entering your office today, I had no intent to enter your private memories. I had no intent to invade your privacy. But I did, and I am so very sorry. You cannot comprehend. I severely wish that I had not seen what I did tonight." Harry thought speaking formally would help get the man to actually listen. He didn't know if it worked. Though, the once glowering man now seemed to be listening.

"I mean it," he continued, "And I say that for two reasons. One, because I never want to see someone treated the way you are. I have been treated that way too many times to count, and I absolutely abhor it. It disgusts every fiber of my being. And second, because, well.. because-"

"If you are going to force your way into my quarters and treat me in a foul manner and force me to listen to your ill excuse for an apology, you better get on with it Potter," Snape said harshly.

Harry's face split into a grin, because Harry knew that was Snape language for "I'm curious for what you have to say, please enlighten me."

Severus huffed in response to the grin, and further added, "any time now."

Harry cleared his throat to continue, any traces of a smile gone, as he prepared to relay information to Severus that he had only just realized earlier tonight for himself. Something that was still painful for him to even think about.

"And second because it, it showed me that the father I previously used to look upon with fond memories, was nothing more than any other bully who has treated me harshly during my lifetime. That he is everything I despise in a person, everything I hate. And that the people who told me he was such a great man were either lying, or oblivious to the type of person he really was." Tears of hurt and anger sprang to Harry's eyes, threatening to escape. "All my proud thoughts of my father, being happy to be compared to him, told I was like him, it's all shattered. And replaced with hate for the type of person he was. He is no better that Draco on even his best day. And I wish that hadn't been ruined for me, but most of all I wish he hadn't acted the way he did towards you. I understand what it feels like to be in that position, and I don't know how you can stand being in the same room as someone who reminds you so much of a man who tormented you every day. How you could look at me an feel anything other than hate. I don't understand. It would make so much more sense if you treated me the way you did just mere months ago."

"Are you saying you wish for me to treat you badly, Potter?" Snape asked, and if Harry didn't know better he would have said he actually sounded, the smallest amount, amused. Severus blatantly skipping over the obvious question of how he could treat Harry as well as he did.

"You know what I mean, Sev-Sn-P-Professor."

Severus raised an eyebrow, before letting it drop.

"That is quite a sentiment. Saying that you hate the type of person your father is, just because of one memory. Although, I wouldn't exactly say I have any fond memories of the man."

"How do you treat me so nicely?" Harry asked, choosing the ignore the sentence before.

"We have a mutual understanding Harry, as I am sure you are now aware of. I am able to see you are not the man your father was, and that looks have nothing to do with character. Your eyes show more that twice as much emotion and compassion than your father's ever did."

"You called me Harry," he said simply.

"I did."

"Why."

"I don't quite know, be honest," he shared.

"I like it."

"We are getting off topic. Which, to be honest, there is nothing more to discuss."

"Could you call me that from now on," Harry asked hopefully.

"You need to get to bed."

"It's past curfew. I'll get caught. I'll get detention."

"That didn't stop you from knocking on my door a small while ago. It was after curfew then as well. You're lucky I didn't take house points."

"What if I do get caught, what'll I explain? Can I please stay here? I'll leave in the morning."

"Yes, because that would be easier to explain. If you do get caught, give then a nonsense excuse. That's what you normally do anyway, isn't it?" Snape sneered.

"Please?" Harry asked, ignoring Severus rationality. He pleaded, looking up at his Potions professor.

Severus growled angrily, yet relented. "You can sleep on the couch. And you better be gone as soon as curfew is lifted in the morning."

"But that's at five o'clock in the morning!" the younger man protested.

"Then you can go now. Your choice. But I better not see you when I wake up," and with that he walked to his rooms, shutting the door smartly behind him. Not even giving a second glance to Harry, as the younger man curled on the sofa, bringing the blanket on the back of the chair up and around his body before setting his wand and glasses on the bedside table, quickly falling into a peaceful slumber.

The man on the other side of the door was not having as much luck, as he no longer needed to compose himself, and proceeded to spend the next couple hours brooding over the information he received that night.


	7. See my soul

_Severus was softly running his hands through Harry's hair, cupping his jaw, stroking behind his ear, kissing his cheekbones, along his jawline, anywhere but his lips, teasing him._

_"Please," Harry whispered, leaning in to capture the older mans lips with his own, only to be just short. He tilted his chin up, trying, trying in vain to kiss those lips that he had stared at for weeks. He was so close, he could feel the warm breath wash over him as Severus let out a small breath of a laugh at the boys obvious want. "Please..." he begged once more more, looking up from the mans lips into his obsidian eyes, but they weren't the familiar black that he remembered, they were a muddy brown, and Harry jumped back, startled, before he noticed the bushy mustache above lips that were not Severus' any longer. He tried to back up, but realized that he was back in his cupboard, on his mattress that was just the foam from Dudley's old crib shoved in the cupboard under the stairs. His uncles face looming near. Bile rises in Harry's throat, his chest tightening, heart beating faster, "No, no! Stop!" he pleads._

"No! Don't touch me! Please, leave me alone! Stop! No, no, no!"

Harry wakes with a start, and lets out a yelp of surprise as his vision focus' on Severus standing above him, no longer trying to mask his concern. Harry notices Snape's hand resting on his shoulder, and the man pulls back, as if just realizing where it was placed.

"I- I"m sorry," he mutters. "I always put a silencing charm up in my dorms, I just forgot, I guess, being out of routine."

Severus swallows harshly.

"You shouldn't put a silencing charm up. That's dangerous, what if you needed actual help?" he admonished lightly.

"Yeah..." Harry acknowledged.

Severus sighs, and twists from his crouched position, turning so he could lay his back against the couch that Harry was curled up on. Severus made himself comfortable on the floor by Harry's head, his back towards the boy.

It was strange for Harry to see his professor like this... willingly turning his back towards him, exposing vulnerability, sitting on the floor godsake. It was, intriguing, to say the least, enthralling.

They sat in comfortable silence for a while.

"Do you want to talk about it?" Snape asks after a few moments.

Harry's immediate response is to decline, to distance himself again, push everything away, but he did. He could blame it on the lack of sleep, the late hour, the dream causing him to be disoriented, but when it came down to it, he had to admit to himself, that it was just the fact that he had started to trust Snape, and it helped to have someone to talk to.

"Well, you should probably join me on the couch then," he stated gruffly. "It's a long story."

Snape turned to look at him, surprise evident, but nonetheless, he joined Harry on the couch.

Harry started talking, and just let everything out. The talked into the wee hours of the morning, when light was just beginning to show, occasionally shifting spots to get more comfortable. Recasting cushioning charms. Severus was resting his elbow on the back of the chair, head rested in his hands as Harry finished, looking at Snape, a blush now across his cheeks as he realized that he just told everything about himself to the professor. Leaving only the part about dreaming of him out.

* * *

><p>So! Sorry for that hiatus I took, guys. (: Hopefully you liked the last chapter and this one. (: I will definitely be updating more this summer, although reviews definitely keep the motivation up. I hope you enjoyed reading as much as I enjoyed writing. Another chapter is expected to be up soon (:<p>

~Silver


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